“Why is that?”
“In a word, Mr. Cason, gold,” Captain Appleby said. “In case you haven’t heard, gold has been discovered in Dakota, and a number of my soldiers have left in search of their fortune. In fact, I believe some of them volunteered for duty here just so they would be closer to the gold find in Dakota. But, from all accounts, the scalps of many of these deserters now decorate Indian lodges between here and Dakota.”
“That brings me to the point of my visit with you, Captain,” James said. “I plan to take a new trail, called the Bozeman Trail, into Dakota. What do you know of that trail, and of the Indians there?”
“As it so happens, Mr. Cason, Fort Larned is the location of the agency for the Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians. Therefore we get many reports from this so-called Bozeman Trail. And I can tell you this. The establishment of that trail has violated every accord we ever had with the Indians. It goes right through their territory and they are not happy about it. Many a traveler has been attacked while taking that trail to the gold fields of Dakota,” Captain Appleby said. “I strongly advise you not to go that way. In fact, my advice to you would be not to go any farther at all.”
“Are you suggesting that I turn around and take my herd back to Texas?” James asked.
“I’m suggesting that you turn around, yes. But you needn’t take your herd back to Texas. You could sell your cows to the army. I’m sure my quartermaster will pay you a fair amount. Not in cash, of course, but with a voucher that will be redeemable from the government in Washington.”
“What does your quartermaster consider a fair amount?”
“Twenty dollars a head.”
“That’s less than half of what I can get for them in Dakota. Thank you, but no, I think we will go on.”
“You can only get that much money for your cows in Dakota if you make it to Dakota,” Captain Appleby said, pointedly.
“We will make it,” James said. “All we need is a little help.”
“Help? Mr. Cason, you aren’t asking for a military escort, are you?”
“Actually, all I was going to ask for was a copy of the latest maps of the area,” James said.
“But I would be a fool to turn a military escort down, if such is available.”
“Under ordinary circumstances, a military escort might be available to you. But these aren’t ordinary circumstances. There is a war on, and you, and I take it the others with you on this drive, are Texans. How would it look in the press if some of my men were killed while providing an escort for Southerners?”
“It probably wouldn’t look very good,” James said in agreement.
“I could wire back to Fort Leavenworth and request permission to provide an escort. I don’t think they will give me approval, and there is even a possibility that they will order me to detain you and confiscate your herd. Would you like me to send that wire?”
“No,” James said.
“I didn’t think you would. So, what are you going to do, Mr. Cason? Are you going to try and go on alone? Or, shall I send for my quartermaster to buy your herd?”
“I’m going on,” James said, resolutely.
“I wish you luck,” Appleby said, by way of dismissal.
The Bucket of Blood Saloon:
Duke and John were standing at the bar, having a drink. Luke was with them, but he was paying more attention to one of the prostitutes than he was to his beer. Four soldiers were sitting at a nearby table.
“Hey, where you fellas from?” one of the soldiers asked.
“We’re from—” John started, but Duke interrupted him.
“We’re from a cow camp up the river a short distance,” Duke said. “We’re driving a herd of cattle through here.”
“Yeah, well, what I mean is, where did you bring them cows from?”
“Texas,” John answered before Duke could cut him off.
Duke sighed, because John’s answer had just the effect he was trying to avoid.
“Texas? By God, you mean to tell me you Rebel bastards got the sand to come up here?”
“We’re from Texas, but we’re not Rebels,” Duke said.
“You ain’t, huh? Well, you look like Rebels to me,” the soldier insisted.
“How the hell would you know what a Rebel looks like?” John asked. “You ain’t exactly in the middle of the war out here.”
“I say you three pukes are Rebels,” the soldier said, getting up from his chair. “And I’m tellin’ you to go on back to where you came from.”
Without saying another word, John threw his beer mug at the soldier. He missed the soldier who was his target, but he hit one of the other soldiers sitting at the same table.
One of the soldiers at the table threw his own beer mug and it sailed by John and Duke, smashing several bottles of liquor that were sitting on a shelf behind the bar.
With that, the fight was on. Other soldiers joined the first group, giving them a three-to-one edge over the cowboys. Tables were broken and chairs were splintered as the fight grew in intensity.
James was just walking toward the saloon to meet the others, when the window suddenly exploded into a shower of glass as a chair came flying outside. From inside the saloon he could hear angry shouts and curses, and he realized at once what was happening. He ran into the saloon with his gun drawn. Stepping through the door, he saw three soldiers lying on the floor. A fourth soldier was on his knees, shaking his head as if trying to clear away the cobwebs. Five soldiers were still on their feet, however, and they were closing a circle around the three cowboys.
“Hold it!” James shouted. When nobody paid any attention to him, he shouted again, firing his pistol at the same time. The gunshot boomed through the saloon and a heavy cloud of smoke and the acrid smell of spent powder drifted through the room.
The gunshot had the desired effect of getting everyone’s attention and all activity came to a halt.
“Now, you soldier-boys just back on away from my pards, there,” James ordered, making a little waving motion with his pistol.
The soldiers moved a few feet away from the bar. Their hands were up and they were glaring at James.
“All the way,” James said. “Go over to that table in the far corner and sit down.”
Grumbling, the soldiers did as ordered.
“Now, Duke, take these two with you on outside, get on your horses and go back to camp,” James said.
Duke and Luke started to comply, but John turned back to the bar.
“You boys go on. I ain’t goin’ nowhere ’till I’ve finished my drink and had me a woman,” he said.
Almost imperceptibly, James nodded at Duke. Slipping his pistol from his holster, Duke hit John just behind the ear. John went down, and Duke scooped him up. Then, carrying John over his shoulder, Duke followed Luke outside.
With his gun still pointed toward the soldiers, including the ones on the floor who were just now beginning to regain their feet, James backed out of the saloon.
“Hey!” the saloon proprietor shouted. “Who’s going to pay for the damage to my place? I’ve got a broke window, couple of busted chairs, and a dozen bottles of liquor ruined here.”
“How much?”
“A hundred dollars for sure.”
“We’ve got a cow camp about three miles upriver,” James said. “I’ll cut out five head and leave them tied to a tree. You can come up and get them. Will that satisfy you?”
The proprietor nodded. “If I find five cows tied to a tree, I’ll be satisfied.”